Masquerade
by l.HederaHelix.l
Summary: It's the start of another school year and Ginny Weasley is now 16. But the new year brings surprises as an event is held in Hogwarts that will make all previous alliances and rivalries irrelevant for one night.
1. Chapter I

(A.N. In my first version of Chapter 1 I seemed to have made Luna a Gryffindor. My bad. But that has since been rectified. Thank you for your previous comments. Hedera xx...)

The vibrant red hair, pale skin and freckles were the only things that betrayed the new image of Ginny Weasley. She looked quite different from last year, having filled out considerably over the summer. The effect of her transformation was evident from the turning heads, causing a blush to rise into her cheeks but she appreciated the praise nonetheless.

She sat at her normal place at the Gryffindor table, getting quite mixed reactions. Seamus's mouth had dropped wide, openly displaying what he thought, Neville's eyes were wide like a puppies. Bless. Harry was grinning cheekily, something that seemed completely beyond him, until he saw the expression on Ron's face. Ah. Right. Ron. Ron's mouth was set in a tight line and he was glaring, disgustedly. Perhaps that was his reaction to the bit of makeup that she added. Nothing outrageous, just enough to accentuate her features, and she couldn't be bothered to do it every day anyway. Oh well, Ron would have to get over it. It was high time he learnt that she wasn't the 'little sister' anymore.

She flicked her hair impatiently to make her silent point to Ron, sneaking a glance to her left to see Seamus's mouth drop even wider in fascination, if that was even possible. She was soon distracted however, as Dumbledore stood, all attention now focussed on him. He raised his hands slightly, as he was inclined to do so when he spoke, and the hall fell completely silent, knowing that the future of their school year was about to be revealed.

"Welcome to yet another year of Hogwarts!"

Ginny held back a yawn. As much as she respected and admired Dumbledore, it was the same thing every year. And so it was, the usual staff appointments, special welcome for the 'newlings', grounds warnings, and even more objects banned by the infamous Filch. But then something did catch her attention, it seemed that the speech was taking a turn.

"Now before we begin the feast, I thought I'd better prepare you for the special event we have coming up. As we thought it would be good to let you experiment with other people outside your friendship groups, and as the previous Yule Ball went down so well, it is my pleasure to inform you that exactly a month from now, Hogwarts will be holding it's first Masquerade Ball!"

The hall erupted, girls were giggling and already planning their outfits and partners. Boys were groaning at the prospect of having to dance again but there were many hushed whispers and nudging as well. It seemed that even the boys were enjoying the idea of being able to ask girls out, under the cover of 'needing a partner'. Dumbledore chuckled at the excitable reaction and remained standing, though McGonagall stood to deal with the formalities. She waited impatiently for the noise to die down, which happened rather quickly, as people were dying to know more.

"Now of course, as the whole point is that you are bonding with those you wouldn't normally, there will be some rules set in place so that your identities are mostly concealed. When the feast begins, as well as your pumpkin juice and food, a few other things will appear, one set for each of you. Firstly there are vials. When you drink the contents of these, they will taint your voice so that it doesn't change dramatically, but enough to make it unrecognisable as your own. Secondly there are bottles. These contain a kind of hair product that can easily be enchanted to produce any colour hair dye. And lastly there will be glass cases, containing contact lenses that have much the same effect as the dye. For those of you who don't know what contacts are, they are small glass discs that fit onto your iris and can improve your vision or change the colour of your eyes."

Several people, obviously not in close contact with any muggles, turned white at the idea of sticking pieces of glass in their eye. Unerringly, McGonagall continued.

"Ah, and you will be informed of a way to keep your masks attached to your faces in your next charms lesson. They will be checked at the entrance to make sure they are secure, and you will not be able to remove them until the ball is over. Dance lessons will take place during your free period on Thursdays and extra lessons if needed on Tuesdays"

With the serious bit over, she sat down again and Dumbledore continued.

"Now, of course you do not have to change any of your features, though it would be much better if you did, but I'm afraid you won't be allowed into the hall without an attached mask. Yes, well, I think that's all. So let the feast begin!"

Ginny's eyes immediately flitted to the space in front of her, where the promised objects appeared in front of her eyes. She instantly picked them up and put them in her large cloak pockets, as if they would disappear if she didn't make a grab for them. The feast was great, a huge roar of noise like she hadn't heard since the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament. Hardly anyone was eating, the food disappearing much slower than usual. Everyone was too busy talking about the upcoming event, including Ginny.

"Do you think it will be the same dance as last time?"

She said to Liza, a friend she had come across during the summer holidays in the apothecary. Liza was class, to put it plainly, but on the opposite side of the spectrum to that of the Malyfoys. Liza's mother spent most of her money funding charities. It was this that convinced Ginny to give Liza a chance, before pasing her off as a 'posh snob'. She helped herself to some salad, subconsciously working at her figure to get her into the nicest dress possible.

'The waltz? Yes, that was rather enjoyable. I suppose it has to be basic for them lot."

Liza said distastefully, motioning towards the boys. When Ginny looked, Harry was talking to Ron, but kept looking over at her, smiling whenever he managed to without being caught by her protective brother. Ron was completely freaking out, typical.

"Oh god, we're going to have to do more dancing. And what the heck am I going to wear? There's no way I can wear those dress robes, and I…I can't afford to buy stuff at Hogsmead."

"I can make you something."

Liza butted in, putting a stop to his rambling. He looked at her quizzically, and a little embarrassed.

"I didn't know you could sew."

He said quietly, trying not to look at her. She nodded gently, not explaining how she knew, preferring to keep to the point.

"That's sorted then."

She said, turning back to her plate. Ginny chuckled and turned to further discuss outfits with the other girls.

The first lessons of the year were as uninteresting and mentally exhausting as ever, the only thing keeping them going through those first uneventful days and the daunting year ahead was the prospect of the ball. The corridors, however, were blazing with hushed whispers as both girls and boys discussed the first dance lesson, though for different reasons. Ginny herself could not help but get excited as the others about this, as she was told that she had excelled in the previous lessons, so had bought herself a book on the subject. She was going to go for one with complicated steps in, to add a bit of flair, but she didn't really understand then and learnt better when practising anyway. So she went for one that explained the feelings and possible scenarios to represent with different types of dance, much more up her street.

Her time in the Common Room revealed that as the dance lesson closed in on them, the subject of conversation turned to focus on a much more curious matter. Who would teach them? Last time they had just been flung in at the deep end, most just swayed and those who knew how, waltzed, but only in basic, no one knew any more than that. But now, perhaps, they were considered mature enough to learn the art properly. She was 16, after all. But back to the point, she didn't know that any of the Professors had dancing knowledge, perhaps they would get someone from outside school. She flicked the page of her dance book, lit by the fire, and tilted the book so that Liza could see better. She turned Ron and Harry, who were playing a game of exploding snap on the nearest table.

"Who do you think will teach us on Thursday?"

She didn't need to explain what she was talking about; the lessons were on the forefront of everyone's minds. Harry answered, as Ron was preoccupied with placing the next card, one eye shut, the other squinting and the tip of his tongue poking out to one side in concentration. Ginny thought it was grotesque. Liza thought was quaint.

"No idea, I heard that it was one of the staff though. Oh Gods, I hope it's not…"

He broke off, but Ginny knew what he was thinking. There was a moment's silence, before both of them burst into laughter. No chance. Snape would rather be Harry's slave-boy for a week than teach dance lessons to groups of giggling girls and hopeless boys.

"So who then?"

Ginny managed to get out, after the chuckles subsided. Harry opened his mouth to answer, when there was a ferocious BANG! When Ginny looked up again after taking cover behind the sofa, Harry was covering his face with his arms, and Ron had fallen backwards in his chair. She sighed, smiling and turned back to her book. Ah well, one more day before all her questions were answered.


	2. Chapter II

The air was thick with anticipation and was hard to breathe with all the excitement gushing through the corridor, as the students buzzed with the knowledge that the first dance lesson was about to start, and the identity of their teacher revealed. The Gryfindors were delighted that both the 5th and 6th Years had their free period together, but the high spirits were considerably dampened by the fact that they also shared it with the 6th Year Slytherins. 'Bloody typical,' thought Ginny as she leant her back against the wall and glared past Liza at Pansy, who was currently draping her arms round Draco's shoulders. Pansy never really had much to do with Ginny, of course she always laughed at Draco's 'Weasling' jokes, which was of course painful, but it was more Pansy's constant baiting of Hermione that made Ginny despise her so much. If she ever got a chance to show her up, she promised herself she would.

Silence fell on the students like a steel blanket, almost sounding as loud in Ginny's ears as the rabble before, and she knew that it could only mean one thing. She made a slight attempt to look over the countless heads, but quickly found it was unnecessary, as the heads were parting, clearing the way for…

"Woah..."

Mumbled Liza, as the figure emerged. Piercing topaz eyes were the first things to strike her, and her own brown eyes flickered up to the short grey hair and she smiled in instant recognition. Madame Hooch strode through the corridor with the same focussed confidence that she had on the Quidditch pitch. For some reason, that struck Ginny as odd, as if she had half expected Hooch to be as raw-footed as Krum off a broom. But, Ginny reminded herself, it seemed that Hooch was also a dancer, which needed all manners of grace, so her basic abilities to walk needn't be that fascinating.

The students watched in stunned silence as their dance tutor unlocked the classroom door, stepped inside and held the door open for them. No one moved. Her hawk-like eyes suddenly grew more dangerous and her mouth thinned. There was a moment's hesitation before they all began to file in and occupy the seats. When the stragglers finally entered, Hooch closed the door and turned to the class. They stared back at her with varying degrees of fright, respect, and disdain (if you counted the Slytherins). She gave them all a withering look before speaking clearly,

"And how exactly do you propose to learn dance with your backsides planted in chairs?"

They looked at each other and rose, moving to the front of the class, which was clear apart from the teacher's desk. When the centre was empty of students, Hooch strolled casually to the middle and flicked her wand towards one side, then the other. As she did so, the desks and chairs slid across the floor to slam into the walls, with just enough force for some to lodge partly onto others, leaving a respectable sized dance floor. The bang sent a shock through the class that seemed to wake them for the first time since seeing their teacher, and whispers broke out throughout them until Hooch clicked her fingers and had their attention again.

"As most of you will probably know, I am Madame Hooch. My usual exploits include coaching and monitoring the Quidditch teams, but this year Dumbledore has requested my expertise in a slightly different field."

Ginny smiled to herself. It seemed that Hooch had become no more modest than the last time she'd seen her. The brilliant thing though, was that however comfortable Hooch was with preaching and demonstrating her own talents, she completely lacked vanity. She was simply saying she was an expert at certain things, was because it was true, and for that, she had everyone's respect. Hooch undid the knot holding her cloak in place and threw it onto some of the piled chairs, revealing a high-necked shirt with very baggy sleeves that thinned suddenly on the wrist, and plain black trousers. She looked more masculine than ever, Ginny though, as she turned to face them.

"Dancing is the expression of emotion through movement. Now I expect that most of the expression you show to be as blank as some of your faces here today, but please believe that I will make every effort to allow you to fill your highest potential. This means that I will be spending more time with some of you than others, and rather than moan…"

She said loudly, as some of the girls glared at her and whispered to each other at her last words,

"…You will just have to prove yourselves to me, won't you? Now, Dumbledore has requested that I teach you the Waltz for the main event, and then a Latin dance of my choice for the closing, where he plans to make it more informal for the last hour or so, after you have revealed your faces. However I would like to get some variety in, so I will teach you all the Waltz and those I feel ready to move on, will progress to the Quickstep, which takes equal amounts of talent but is none the less more steps to learn. We will discuss the Latin dance in a few lessons time. For now, posture! Onto the floor! In lines, if you please, boys and girls separate, all facing the centre!"

She swept to the side to allow the students to form lines, boys and girls facing each other nervously with a gap in the centre, Ginny taking her place somewhere in the third, middle line of girls, on the outside. Hooch then walked in between them and faced the boys, drawing herself up, raising her right hand and her left hand in front of her, both crooked at the elbow. Her head leant back and tilted to the left and her back was bent very slightly backwards in a gradual curve, her posture so delicate and light, she looked as if she could be snapped with ease. Ginny tried her best to copy, hoping that one day she would look that comfortable dancing.

"This, ladies, is your pose, you must never, EVER, change it throughout the dance. Some moves will require varying head and hand gestures, but you must return to this exact position. Ballroom dancing needs a perfectly sturdy yet delicate frame. I do NOT want to see any variations of this pose. I am only going to explain this once. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Miss."

Came the unanimous reply. Ginny smiled as she formed the position with the other girls, Hooch definitely knew what she was doing, studying the professionals in her book could tell her that much. Their tutor released her pose and walked along the lines, adjusting arms and heads and height quite roughly where need be. When she was satisfied she moved to the boys, and faced the girls, who had to stay in their position until she said otherwise, though most eyes moved to watch what the male part was. Hooch matched the same position, but the arms were switched, the back straight and the head facing forwards. Ginny marvelled at how different the pose made her look; previously she looked like a strong breeze would bend her out of shape, whereas now it looked like rolling boulders couldn't make her falter.

"Gentlemen, this is your pose. Same rules apply. Yes?"

"Yes, miss."

The whole lesson followed in much the same vein, where they practised walking normally and then snapping to attention in their pose at a moments notice. They all started at one side of the room, and those who got it were moved to the opposite side to watch the others, those who got it second time were moved, etc, and those who really struggled had to perform it several times before Hooch let them go. Ginny was moved the first time, much to her delight, but was amazed to see that in the few others that joined her there was only one boy. None other than Draco Malfoy.

She was torn for a moment between loathing that he should be good at anything, and awe that he danced at all. She would've thought that far too an embarrassing pastime for him, but then perhaps being an aristocrat of sorts, his parents would've paid for lessons. It was known as something that the 'upper class' did, anyway. But his evident smugness put a grimace on her face and before she could look away, he saw her looking and raised an eyebrow, showing his surprise at the fact she had done the pose as early as he, so she simply pouted angrily at him and turned to watch the other 'dancers'.

Half an hour later (it should've been a quarter of an hour later, but some of them had been having a lot of trouble, luckily Liza had been let across after about 15 minutes) they all stumbled out, slightly subdued with the knowledge that this was going to be a whole lot harder than they anticipated. Ginny, however, practically bounced out the room, ignoring the glares from the Slytherin girls.

"How'd it go?"

She asked Harry, catching up with him and ignoring the murderous glares her brother was passing to the floor, and then to her. Harry shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

"Not much better than the last time I danced really. At least we have a proper teacher, Madame Hooch eh? Who'd have thought it? Of course, my confidence isn't helped with that git showing off all the time."

He said, motioning towards Malfoy, who had just brushed past them.

"Hmm."

Ginny hummed in agreement, though she secretly wondered how much he really knew about dancing.

Next lesson, we shall see.+

And with that thought she entered the grounds for Herbology.

(A.N - Stay on for the next chapter, and I promise at least a paragraph of completely irrelevent, gut-wrenchingly cringey moments XD )


	3. Chapter III

"For goodness' sake Neville, its rise and fall, not trudge and jump!"

It seemed that Hooch had become even testier in their second dance class. Neville let out a dramatic, angry sigh but squinted slightly in extreme concentration and tried the steps again. They had slowly progressed to the proper Waltz, moving in circles and diagonals, and they were _meant_ to be rising and falling with each step, but many had serious trouble with this. Ginny got it within the first few tries, but Hooch was pushing her harder and even followed her round the floor with her hand under Ginny's chin, making she got all possible height, she stumbled a few times and though Hooch looked disappointed every time she did so, she let her sit down for a rest. Draco did it flawlessly.

Bastard+

Thought Ginny as she sat and he practically flew past her, a smug smile on his face, which grew wider as he saw her watching.

I'm not impressed, I swear, no really, I'm not.+

She argued with the invisible being in her head, the Alter-Ginny.

Of course not, you just happen to have been watching him for the past five minutes with an awe-struck look on your face. 

Damn it.+

She looked down as he sat next to her, one leg swung over the other, slouching, and resting his arms on the backs of the chairs beside his, which meant that he was dangerously close to having one arm around her. Her eyes widened slightly and was on the brink of moving further down the sofa when he distracted her.

"You're not too bad yourself, Weasley."

He said with a raised eyebrow, looking at her amusedly before watching the others. She didn't answer, and stared determinately in the other direction.

Patronising git.+

It was still a compliment, never had one of those before, have you? 

Shut up.+

"Well, as we've progressed further than I'd planned, I will show you the range of outfits you can purchase."

Madame Hooch announced, leaving Neville in a tragic state and heaving a large black suitcase onto the teacher's table at the front as everyone gathered round.

"There is a shop in Hogsmeade that sells these kinds of clothes, and you can also buy most of the outfits I have here, though they're really just examples so you know what to look for. Now, here are some suits,"

After flicking her wand at some tables to bring them sliding over, she laid a few suits out and the boys, though trying not to show it, seemed interested. The suits looked more clean-cut than the dress robes, and though the colours were much plainer, mainly black and white, they looked much more…mature. Ginny heard Draco snort with contempt in the background, and she assumed that he didn't think the quality up to his standard, but she was too distracted by the appearing dresses to think into it. The girls immediately burst into hundreds of noises of approval and surged forwards to touch and examine the gorgeous dresses that Hooch had set out.

"Ooooh!"

"I could just see you in this!"

"Oh wow!"

"Look at that one!"

"If only I could afford it!"

And many other comments resounded around the table. Ginny herself had to admit that they were magnificent and laughed as Liza and her other friends put a few up to her body to see how they looked, but none of them were really _her_. They were either too high-necked, too short, too blue, too tight or too…too…just not her. Oh well, at least she had a reason to go shopping in Hogsmeade now. Now the shoes, they were a different matter. Despite her distaste for those typically girly things, these shoes were like no others. They were proper ballroom shoes, with high heels that she couldn't believe anyone could dance in and straps that criss-crossed over the foot and ankle, and some even a short way up the leg.

"Omigosh."

She stuttered, then covered her mouth quickly, looking round to see if anyone had heard her girly exclamation. As she was browsing them, a pair caught her eye and she couldn't tear her eyes from them. They were a beautiful frosted silver and the heel was at least 2 ½ inches, she would have to practise a lot to dance properly in them, but she was sure it was worth it.

"Now I would like you all to have your shoes with you for our next lesson, so that you can practise with the shape, but I expect you all to have turned them temporarily black in colour until the ball, so that you cannot be recognised by the shoes you wore to class. I know it's slightly awkward but the Headmaster is really cracking down on this 'hidden identity' thing. I assume you know the spell but if you don't then track me down before dinner. You are dismissed."

Ginny would track her down, but not to know the spell. Those shoes were hers.

"Those? They are fifty-nine galleons and six sickles."

Said Madame Hooch as she picked up a velvet bag with the treasured shoes on top.

"Fifty...!"

Ginny exclaimed but then steeled herself. She should've expected this, dancers accessories were always expensive and they were, truly worth it. But though she had the money it would take too much out of her budget and she would not be able to afford a decent dress, which she supposed was the most important thing, though it was with a grudge that she moved on to look at the rest of the shoes. There was another silver pair, though they were shiny and clearly a much cheaper copy of those she adored.

"And those?"

She asked, pointing.

"Eleven galleons nine."

She bit her lip.

But I really love those other...+

No, you can't afford them. You should get these half-decent ones before they're all gone. 

Damn concience, can't do anything I want.+

Nope. 

"I'll take them then please."

Handing over the coins, she took the cloth bag instead, glaring evilly at it as she left the room.

(A.N - I know I promised cringey moments! But I'm afraid some more meticulous planning has moved this chapter forwards a bit. So sorry, but at least you have motivation to read on! . )


End file.
